infidelity. He would reach it by a circuitous route. From Paris to
the historic old capital of Switzerland, in the centre of mountains
and the heart of Europe, was a herculean journey for the fugitives.

On they went for two and three days' journey, stopping at humble inns
on the roadside where the news of the capital had not reached. Time
inured them to danger and calmed the fever of anxiety consequent upon
their hurried and hazardous flight.

But the avenging law had followed in close pursuit. The officers of the
Government were directed from village to village; they found themselves
on the track of an old man and two beardless youths in naval cadet
costume. The chase became exciting. Wealth and fame awaited their
capture.

One evening, in the glow of a magnificent sunset, Cassier and his
daughters were wending their way along one of the picturesque roads
of the Cote d'Or. They were on the slope of a shady mountain, and
through a vista of green foliage they could see the road they had
passed for miles in the distance. The silence of the mountainside
was unbroken, save by the music of wild birds and the roar of a torrent
that leaped through the moss-covered rocks towards the valley. The
wild flowers gave aromatic sweetness to the mountain-breeze, and the
orb of day, slowly sinking in a bank of luminous crimson clouds in the
distant horizon, made the scene all that could be painted by the most
brilliant fancy. Our young heroines gave frequent expression to their
delight, but their aged sire was silent and watchful. He frequently
took long and piercing looks on the road he had passed. Anxiety
mantled on his wrinkled brow; a foreboding of danger cast its prophetic
gloom over his spirits.